


a cat named lavender

by faerie_ground



Series: a kingsman/bodyguard crossover [3]
Category: Bodyguard (TV 2018), Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Animals, Kittens, M/M, Trans Eggsy Unwin, part of the kingsman bodyguard series but can be read as a standalone, tw for animal cruelty, tw for transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21657649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faerie_ground/pseuds/faerie_ground
Summary: David brings home a black kitten, changing the dynamic of their family forever.
Relationships: David Budd/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin
Series: a kingsman/bodyguard crossover [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1309457
Comments: 16
Kudos: 60





	a cat named lavender

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from hercules by elton john
> 
> timeline: set after your haunted social scene, before gonna set this dance alight
> 
> tw for transphobia (misgendering and deadnaming), and animal cruelty

David brings her home on- in a move far too cliche for it to be reality- a stormy night.  
  
It’s in fact storming so hard the windowpanes shudder like leaves in the wind, droplets crashing against the glass in a cacophony so loud Eggsy more than once considers turning the radio all the way up to drown it out. He’d gone scrounging for David’s sweatshirts instead of his own halfway through, wincing intermittently at the flashes of thunder. At a particularly loud one JB had jumped up, squeaked in a very undoglike manner and skidded across the floor to cower beneath the sofa, only coming out when coaxed by Eggsy to do so. Officer Oatmeal had watched the proceedings from her regal place by the armchair, dozy eyed and blinking heavily.  
  
David had been supposed to return by eight, after a local mission in downtown London. Clad in David’s college sweatshirt, the sleeves rolled up and the hem bunched around his hips and JB tucked beneath his arm, he’d gone to the kitchen and fretfully made a cup of coffee. “He can’t be in any danger, can he?” He’d asked JB worriedly, who’d gazed back dolefully, his limbs still shivering a little from his thunder scare. “I mean, Merlin said he’s on his way. Maybe he just doesn’t have an umbrella, or something.”  
  
The coffee’s gone by the time the door unlocks, a tell tale click that sends a rush of relief so strong into Eggsy his knees buckle. Almost breaking the coffee mug by setting it down in his haste, Eggsy rushes to the hallway to see David absolutely sopping wet, hair plastered to his scalp and clothes so drenched through he’d need at least a hundred towels to get dry. “Um,” David says, arms wrapped around himself, a sheepish look in his eyes. “Fancy meeting you here.”  
  
“In our shared house?” Eggsy says skeptically, arms crossed over his own chest in what he’d like to think makes a rather formidable image. “Where the hell have you been?”  
  
“Just- out,” David says weakly, hands still wrapped around himself. He’s in a leather jacket that’s dripping wet, oddly bulky and misshapen. He shifts his hands, hefting it up slightly before continuing, “I decided to walk home, that’s why I was late.”  
  
“Really,” Eggsy says flatly. “In the-”  
  
That’s when he hears it, unmistakeable and soft. It rings through the living room and the minute it does David winces, cringing a little. “Was that a meow?” Eggsy demands, moving closer.  
  
“No,” David says quickly, stepping back slightly. The meow resounds again from his jacket and this time, it shifts too- a slight movement that’s obvious in the way it jostles David’s hands.  
  
“David,” Eggsy says softly, reaching towards David’s jacket. “Is that- your jacket just moved.”  
  
“I found her on the street,” David blurts out, his face guilty as he nibbles on his bottom lip, finally opening his leather jacket crinkled wet from the rain to reveal the black ball of fluff nestled within. “She was just tied to the pole, left out in the rain. I couldn’t really leave her alone-”  
  
“David, darling,” Eggsy says hesitantly, even as he reaches for the kitten, cuddling her with his own arms. The poor thing is shivering, whiskers trembling and pink nose poking into Eggsy’s collar.  
  
“I know what you’re going to say,” David rushes on, hands flailing about as he tries to get out of his sopping leather jacket, the shirt beneath sticking to his skin in a way that Eggsy shouldn’t be noticing at all, “and thing is, I think Officer Oatmeal and JB can warm up to her. She’s quiet, she’s polite-”  
  
“You’ve had her for an hour, tops,” Eggsy argues, cooing at the kitten himself. “David, come on-”  
  
“I’ll take full responsibility for her,” David says insistently, the pleading note in his voice heartbreaking, and then he sneezes. It’s only once, but it’s pretty violent, his entire torso wracked with the force of the sneeze and Eggsy’s head shoots up.  
  
“God, get those clothes off you, you’re going to catch a horrid cold. Come on- go dry off, I’ll bring towels,” he says, as David stands shivering in the corridor, looking like he’s about to sneeze again. Once David’s been bundled off to his room, with half a dozen towels and clothes straight from the dryer- one of Eggsy’s baggier shirts and the softest, most worn sweatpants of David’s he could find to be precise- Eggsy gets a smaller hand towel himself before wrapping the kitten up in it, setting her on the kitchen countertop. JB barks once from beside him before quieting down, large brown eyes staring at the new creature in the house.  
  
“I bet he swooped in to save you like the dashing white knight he is,” he tells the kitten who snuffles quietly, still shivering in the blanket. She really is the tiniest little thing, barely bigger than the size of his hand and black fur matted down with dirt and rain. Her eyes, Eggsy realizes with a jolt, are a beautiful, luminous green, somehow brighter than the light shining overhead. “You’re lucky.”  
  
*  
  
The kitten, the vet tells Eggsy the next day- David is laid up in bed, sick with a cold that makes him sound like a cross between the sexiest man on earth and a frog- is a Calico breed, and is surprisingly healthy to boot.  
  
“All vitals okay- perhaps a bit of a fever, but she’s perfectly healthy,” the vet confirms. “No tags either, she’s a stray.”  
  
So some sicko had tied the kitten up to a pole, letting her grow cold in the rain and freeze to death. The very thought sends a wave of rage coursing through Eggsy- he can’t imagine doing that to any of the puppies kept in Kingsman, or even to JB or Officer Oatmeal. He tells David as such, who looks appropriately furious- or as furious as he can look with a red nose and pink cheeks.  
  
“We have to keep her,” David says nasally, pausing for a moment to blow his nose and then looking at Eggsy beseechingly. His eyes are twice as watery with the fever making him look droopy and even more of a man child than before, tugging at Eggsy’s heartstrings even more than the kitten can achieve. “Come on, Eggsy. She doesn’t have anyone.”  
  
“We could put her up for adoption,” Eggsy says hesitantly, and then regrets his words when David visibly shrinks back on himself, his face falling. In such a short period of time David’s grown attached to the kitten, almost unnaturally so and it’s reciprocal- the kitten follows him everywhere, licking at his heels and cuddling into his arms. In fact, she’s taken Eggsy’s usual spot on his lap and Eggsy would normally be more petulant and upset about it if the whole image didn’t look so fucking adorable- big, strong man like David Budd cradling a tiny Calico kitten in his hands like his life depended on it.  
  
“Or we could not,” Eggsy adds, nodding to where the kitten is now curled up, fast asleep on David’s lap. “I mean, the dogs don’t have much of a problem with her.”  
  
That, however, is something of a misguided statement. Officer Oatmeal and JB are both, simply put, confused by the enigma that is the kitten. JB gives her a wide berth and Officer Oatmeal just hides out in other rooms or by Eggsy’s side whenever the kitten makes her appearance, cowering behind his legs or bumping into the back of his thighs. She’s not afraid of the kitten, Eggsy doesn’t think- just wary of this new addition to their family.  
  
“I’ve seen how Officer Oatmeal acts,” David says unhappily, stroking a hand over the kitten’s back. “I need them to get along.”  
  
“And they will,” Eggsy says, snuggling in to David’s side and craning his neck up to press a kiss to David’s temple, warm with fever. “Worrying over them isn’t going to help you get any better.”  
  
And so it is decided- the Kitten, as she’s termed because David hasn’t come up with a name for her yet- gets officially added to the Unwin and Budd family of dogs. It’s a strange coexistence, two grown dogs tip toeing around a tiny kitten. The Kitten, for the most part is well behaved- slightly snobbish, Eggsy thinks privately, but well behaved. Her little upturned nose and cocksure behaviour makes Eggsy suspect she wasn’t born on the streets like the vet had suggested, but instead grown in captivity and then tossed out, abandoned. She knows how to get what she wants, certainly, blinking up at David with doe eyes when she wants more cat food, curling up in his lap obstinately just when Eggsy has the urge to snog the life out of him, hissing in a pathetic manner when her daily shower- administered by Eggsy, because of course all the less enjoyable tasks when it comes to taking care of the Kitten falls to him- goes on for longer than six minutes. She’s a smart kitten, Eggsy will give her that, and it’s slightly admirable how keenly pinned beneath her paw she has the entire household within the short span of two days.  
  
*  
  
Daisy, Charlie and Ella, predictably, love the kitten as well.  
  
“She’s so cute!” Daisy screeches at an inhuman pitch, scratching the back of the Kitten’s ears as she squats by the basket they’ve bought for her. The Kitten bravely accepts her scratches, sitting meekly in the basket and letting out a meow every few minutes.  
  
“Don’t bother her too much, Daisy flower,” Eggsy warns as he kneels down by them, resisting the urge to take out his phone to snap a picture. Charlie and Ella are sitting by the basket too, their eyes keen as they stare unflinchingly at the Kitten. The Kitten paws at the blanket for a bit, clearly putting on a show for the kids before flopping down in a move that makes all of them squeal at how adorable it is.  
  
“Cats are much better than dogs,” Ella announces, as she lifts the kitten carefully into her lap. By reflex, Eggsy covers the ears of Officer Oatmeal, who’s laying her head in his lap peacefully. “They ain’t as loud.”  
  
“Oi, don’t say that about dogs,” David says, laughing as he comes to sit down beside Eggsy too. He presses a kiss to Eggsy’s cheek, thumb running over the corner of his elbow before adding, “Dogs are pretty fun, too.”  
  
“Yeah, Ella, don’t be rude,” Charlie says, hitting Ella on the arm. His hand lands with a loud slap, and everyone in the room, including Officer Oatmeal, winces at the noise that echoes.  
  
“I wasn’t being rude, and why did you hit me? See if you like it if I hit you back-” Ella raises her hand, too, and Daisy, agile like anything, snatches the kitten from her arms.  
  
“Both of you,” David says sharply, raising his voice in a way that makes it known that David Budd the Father means absolute business and will not tolerate being ignored, “cut that out right now-”  
  
Right at that moment, the kitten lets out a meow, long and sharp, and causing both Charlie and Ella to stop their squabbling, staring at her with wide eyes.  
  
“Even kitty wants both of you to stop fighting,” Daisy says placidly, lifting the kitten up. “See?”  
  
More so than Charlie, both Ella and Daisy fall in love with the kitten. They start making excuses to spend more time with her, rushing over after class and once, attempting to sneak her home. It gets to the point where Michelle Unwin calls Eggsy up, complaining to him about the state of his little sister’s obsession with kittens.  
  
“She’s started asking me about adopting kittens, Eggsy!” Michelle moans into the phone. “Do _something_ \- I’m about to lose my mind here.”  
  
“It can’t be that bad,” Eggsy had said absently, trying to stifle a giggle as he’d pushed at David’s head, who’d chosen that exact moment to hike his shirt up and place butterfly kisses down his stomach. He hadn’t shaved and his stubble had tickled, sending his nerve endings alight- who knew you had that many nerve endings in your stomach, anyway? Eggsy certainly didn’t before David.  
  
“She’s bought _ten_ cat toys, Eggsy. And cat food! Five packets of them!”  
  
Ella hadn’t fared any better. According to an irate Vicky, who’d placed a phone call to David as well, Ella had very skilfully used her credit card to place an order for a cat basket and cat chew toys from Amazon, as well as inexplicably, a Christmas jumper for cats.  
  
“It’s May, it’s not even Christmas,” David complains, his arms full of the Kitten. She sniffles quietly, her large green eyes staring at Eggsy as he combs down Officer Oatmeal’s fur. Officer Oatmeal is the kind of dog that somehow stays clean no matter how many hours of the day she spends lazing out in the sunshine, a beautiful russet colour that never fails to steal Eggsy’s gaze.  
  
“You’re a beautiful dog, aren’t you?” Eggsy croons to her as she gives a quiet bark, head pillowed on her paws. “A true beauty. Michelangelo weeps before you.”  
  
“ _Eggsy_ ,” David says, exasperated. There’s a hint of a smile in his voice, though.  
  
“I’m listening, I’m listening,” Eggsy says, setting down the comb and smoothing a hand down Officer Oatmeal’s back. “Look at the bright side, darling, at least she loves animals.”  
  
“At least,” David scoffs, as if the idea that any of his children would abhor animals is preposterous.  
  
*  
  
The point is, the Kitten makes everyone fall in love with her- even the agents of Kingsman, Roxy practically falling over herself for a chance to cuddle her and Harry buying her a tiny jumpsuit for kittens, exclusively shipped from Amazon and promptly causing Merlin to lecture him on not giving any money to Jeff Bezos. David can rarely be caught without her in his arms, Officer Oatmeal and JB both warm up to her enough that Eggsy comes down to the drawing room one day to see the Kitten on top of Officer Oatmeal, fast asleep, and even their next door neighbours, a couple who spend every second of the day cranky and bitter at chances long gone, are very much in love with the kitten, asking after her and bringing cat treats on one memorable occasion.  
  
Everyone, it seems, except Eggsy.  
  
He’s not sure what it is about his refusal to be too attached to the Kitten- perhaps it is the way the Kitten has already gained control of the entire household in a matter of a few days, ruling them all with her tiny paw. Or perhaps it is the way she looks fragile and breakable, miniscule body slipping through the cracks in the furniture and hiding within plain sight, prickling at Eggsy’s skin uncomfortably with the same awareness that he’d had when Daisy had been a wee babe, so frighteningly vulnerable to Dean’s abuse that Eggsy had been willing to do whatever it took to become her human shield, quite literally at times. The Kitten, Eggsy thinks sullenly one day, watching from the comfort of his kitchen as David dangles a ball on a string in front of her and laughs as she paws at it, cannot protect herself like Officer Oatmeal and JB can, and Eggsy almost hates her for it.

This opinion of his, frankly short sighted in hindsight, changes pretty rapidly one Sunday morning. Just the week before, Eggsy had been caught unaware by an Italian mobster on a mission and ended up with a fractured arm, and splintered ribs to boot. He’d been expressly advised- commanded, more like- by Arthur to take it easy for at least two weeks.

“Two weeks, that’s ridiculous,” Eggsy had said, balking while the doctor and David stood off to the side, awkward. David hadn’t said anything, arms folded and shoulders at parade rest, looking so fucking stiff Eggsy had privately thought that a slight breeze would end up breaking him. “The fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Rest,” Harry had said pointedly, eyebrows arched. “Anything except turning up on Kingsman premises.”

The night before that Sunday morning, David idly points out that the supply of cat food in the house has run low again. Seeing his chance, Eggsy instantly volunteers to take the Kitten to the nearby pet shop at the corner of Smith Street. It is an unfortunate place for a pet shop to be in, and just being near the vicinity makes the uncomfortable stain of memories threaten to spread again. However, he refuses to take no for an answer, sitting up so agitatedly and ranting so furiously about how he’s going to go stir crazy that David agrees to it for fear of Eggsy hurting himself even further. So Sunday morning finds Eggsy wheeling the trolley down the cat food aisles, the Kitten sitting at the front of the trolley and poking her little head out over the edge.

“Low fat, cholesterol free,” Eggsy reads off a particular tin, waving it at the Kitten. “What about it, eh?”

The Kitten glares back, green eyes unimpressed. David had once said that Eggsy looked exactly like her when trying to glower at anyone- Eggsy hadn’t appreciated the comparison.

“Don’t look at me like that, it’s important to keep a healthy diet,” Eggsy admonishes her, placing the tin inside the trolley. The Kitten growls- or attempts to, anyway, the sound more like a squeak than anything else. “I’ll have you know that keeping JB on a healthy diet has made him into the ravishing, upstanding member of the pug community as he is today-”

“Eggsy? Eggsy Unwin?”

Eggsy stiffens, instantly, the reaction automatic. He looks from the tin and realizes that it’s none other than Rottie standing in front of him, face dressed up in a sneer that seems to be a permanent feature. The Kitten perks up at the words and leans up, paws on the edge of the trolley and Eggsy’s heartbeat triplicates in anxiety- there is nothing, technically, stopping Rottie from hurting her. Eggsy would be damned if he let a lowlife like Rottie lay even one finger on her.

“Yeah,” Eggsy says stiffly. “I’m actually rather busy now at the moment, so if you’d mind-”

“A kitten?” Rottie carries on, his voice loud enough to carry over to the other aisles. “Din’t think you were a girl no more, _Gabby.”_

Rottie’s a fucking asshole, but this is a new low, Eggsy thinks in the cold shock that steals over him after Rottie’s words echo and carve themselves into his skin, scars that refuse to disappear. Dean and his boys had never took to the news of him coming out as a transgender man well, pricking at his skin with insults and bringing up his deadname so often he feels scarred by it, each insult a slash on his skin so deep he peels off the layers at night in the bathtub and sinks in the mind deep ache of it. He’s unable to formulate a response or even move, hands glued to the bars of trolley and throat locked in terror, shock, anger- and that is when it happens, so rapidly Eggsy is unable to stop it.

The Kitten launches herself off the trolley, baring her tiny claws and jumping straight for Rottie’s face. Rottie screams, hand trying to wave her off but she somehow avoids it, slashing at Rottie’s face so deep that the next sound that comes from him is a howl of pain, hand covering his face. It is a rather amusing sight to see a grown man cower from a tiny black kitten and Eggsy would love to film it for posterity but he rushes forward anyway, gathering the Kitten in his arms. “Hey- hey girl, it’s okay,” Eggsy whispers, kissing the top of her head. She licks at the skin on his arm, meowing in a way that lets Eggsy know she’s extremely proud of herself. In the commotion, Rottie scrambles back on his haunches, hands covering the claw marks on his face. Eggsy savagely hopes that they scar.

“Your cat’s a fucking psycho!” Rottie screams, a high pitched shriek that betrays a tiny waver of fear. “I’ll kill your fucking cat, you hear me?”

“Fuck off, Rottie,” Eggsy snaps, gathering the Kitten even closer to himself. The Kitten snarls at Rottie from the safe enclosure of Eggsy’s arms, raising one claw bared paw, and Rottie shrieks again, scrambling back even further before getting to his feet and dashing off.

Eggsy’s in a daze after that. He doesn’t remember buying the cat food and walking home, putting one foot in front of the other with the Kitten tucked into his shirt, head peeking out of the neck of it but he must have done all these things for he suddenly finds himself in the drawing room of the house, standing in the doorway and blinking blearily in the light.

“Eggsy?” David calls out before he comes walking in, clad in just an apron and sweatpants and looking very handsome as he does so. Eggsy feels so utterly shaken to the core, though, that he can’t even find it in himself to appreciate it- the burn of ridicule, shame and self loathing eats away at his insides, a living writhing thing. “Hey, I was just wondering- wait, what happened?”

In a flash he’s in front of Eggsy, taking the bags of cat food and the Kitten from him and placing them on the table. The Kitten mewls, displeased at being so ruthlessly discarded. “Hey, Eggsy?” His hands, large and soft, cup Eggsy’s face and Eggsy leans into the grip, breathing in the comforting scent of him. “You look like shit, what happened?”

“Met Rottie at the pet shop,” Eggsy sighs, feeling exhausted to the bone. “He- insulted me. Brought up my deadname, and stuff.”

David’s face instantly fills with anger, jaw tight and eyes sharp. His hands fall to Eggsy’s shoulders, clenched tight and shaking imperceptibly. When he speaks, each syllable rings true with fury. “I’m going to kill him,” he says decisively. “Where the fuck did I place my gun-”

“David- David, stop, come on, I don’t want my boyfriend to go to jail,” Eggsy argues, keeping an equally tight hold over David’s elbows. David makes to leave anyway, expression red with rage and the vein on his forehead popping out with the force of it. “David, listen to me- the Kitten saved me, actually.”

“The-” David stops, confused. In unison, they both turn to look at the Kitten who’s still perched on the table, staring innocently at them. She lets out another meow, sounding far too pleased with herself. “The Kitten?”

“The Kitten,” Eggsy says, the corner of his own lips lifting up in spite of himself. He reaches towards her, picking her up in his arms and placing a kiss on her head again. David stares at both of them, a completely befuddled expressions on his face- rightly so, considering that before this, Eggsy had limited his affections when it came to the Kitten. “She jumped at Rottie- scratched his face up. He might have scars.”

“Good,” David says savagely and then smooths a hand over the Kitten’s tiny head, looking amazed. “Did you really? Good girl.” He looks up, hand still over her head. “How are you?”

“I-” Eggsy pauses, the words I’m fine dying a quick death on his tongue. He’s not fine, actually, but he’s getting there. Being in David’s arms had helped settle him, ease the prickling beneath his skin and the lump of tears in his throat but he still feels like he’s in a fog, unable to see his way through or breathe because of it. “I think I’m- I will be okay.”

“Good boy,” David says, his voice gruff and low, the grips of his hands over Eggsy’s shoulders a genuine, solid feel. Eggsy swallows roughly, his cheeks hot and the smile on his lips wider now, chasing away the gloom that threatens to take over his entire chest. “Brooklyn 99 reruns are on, if you’re interested.”

“Thank you,” Eggsy says softly. _For everything_ , he means, and then promptly feels ashamed, the show of feelings and laying out of his own heart causing a hot wave of shame to sink in his own ribs. There’s nothing but understanding and love in David’s eyes, however, so intense he threatens to drown Eggsy in them.

“You don’t have to thank me, love,” David says, equally softly.

*

“Lavender,” David says, suddenly, three days after the incident in the pet shop. Eggsy had been flipping through channels, bored, cuddled up against the couch beside David with all three of their pets surrounding them.

“Pardon?” Eggsy asks, confused. The Kitten, who’d been sleeping on his lap the whole while, opens one green eye blearily and growls, as if to tell both of them to shut up. He shushes her before turning to David for an explanation.

“We can’t keep calling her the Kitten,” David explains, gesturing towards her. “I think- Lavender’s a good name, isn’t it? It used to be the code name for Julia. She reminds me a lot of her. Fierce, seems weak but really isn’t, gives the men in her life a hell of a time.” There’s a small smile playing on his lips, full of grief and nostalgia. It rips at Eggsy’s heart, the open wound that David still carries around with him like penance.

“Lavender,” Eggsy echoes. “What about it, darling?” The newly christened Lavender purrs before going back to sleep, and Eggsy knows that she’s decided to very magnanimously accept the name.

“Three pets,” David sighs, arm going round Eggsy’s shoulders to draw him close. Officer Oatmeal snorts in her sleep from beside Eggsy and Eggsy rubs a hand down her back, soothing and low. From David’s lap JB keeps snoring, his ears fluttering lightly in his sleep. “We’ll be keeping a zoo before long.”

“I’m up for keeping anything,” Eggsy says, turning his head to the size and pressing a kiss to David’s bare shoulder, slightly cold in the drafty drawing room, “as long as it’s with you.”

David beams back at him, his smile bright enough to power an entire city, and Eggsy feels very much like he wouldn’t trade any of this- taking care of fierce Calico kittens, genial German Shepherds and lazy pugs with this gorgeous, brave man- for anything in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> the next chapter of your haunted social scene is taking pretty long so here's something to tide yall over, just a (hopefully) little cute bit about lavender the kitten that you see in the second story of this series! 
> 
> as always my askbox is open on tumblr at himbotaron, come yell at me about eggvid


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